Behind the Neon Lights
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Flying high, carried by the winds of hope,
happiness has no bounds to bind my wings.
And I am ready to do more than cope,
no longer a puppet; I cut the strings
that time had allowed to morph into rope.
I thought that the whole world would welcome me;
so I left home and moved to the city.
But it wasn't what I had hoped it would be;
behind its neon lights, there's no pity,
and life there doesn't come with a guarantee.
I was disenchanted, to say the least,
'twixt expectations and reality.
And my enthusiasm quickly decreased
as disappointment dropped it a degree;
and anxiety's climb sharply increased.
Pinocchio had to learn the hard way
that sometimes what we think we want the most;
is but an illusion that fades away.
But hope manages to move the goalpost;
whenever frustration comes into play.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2020
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